Chris' Birthday One-Shots
by Lilingppg007
Summary: Updated every November 16th.
1. Chapter 1

**Angst.**

_November 16, 2014_

Disappointment. Indignation. Hopelessness. Those were the three words associated with the word "birthday" every November 16th without fail. Every year, it was the exact same thing. The youngest Halliwell son would wake up, convincing himself that _'this year, things will be different.' _He would get ready for the day and head on downstairs for what he'd hoped to be a nice birthday breakfast with his family, only to find that while all his favourite dishes were laid out on the dining table, his mother, his aunts and _he_ were absent. His uncles Coop and Henry would flash their goofy grins and give him a hug and a pat on the back with the words _"Happy Birthday, Chris!" _and the whole family, save for the absentees, would take turns wishing him well. Breakfast was filled with animated chatter and laughter, but Chris did not smile.

After breakfast, his mother and aunts would return exhausted, and his mother would approach him with sad and guilt-stricken eyes muttering the same soothing _"I'm so sorry Peanut, there was a demon attack and I was hoping to complete the vanquish in time for breakfast"_ followed by a hug and a present from behind her back, and a _"Happy Birthday, Peanut."_. _"Hope" _was a word he was beginning to doubt. His aunt Phoebe, being the empath, would sense his unhappiness and disappointment, and sit down next to him on a mission to cheer him up, and aunt Paige would shower him with the presents he'd begged her for. It was fun for a while, but he wanted _him._

In the evening, when it was time for the celebration, _he _would come home for a visit. The boy would look up at _him _with hopeful eyes, waiting to hear the words he'd been wanting to hear for as long as he could remember, words he'd only ever heard in his dreams. But of course, there was nothing. No birthday wish, no pat on the back, or any other form of fatherly gesture, there wasn't even a simple _"How are ya doing, bud?" _No. Nothing was the only thing he received as the man he'd always tried so hard to please simply walked past him to pick up his older brother, smiling indulgently at the twice-blessed as he asked him about his day. Following _his _and Wy's bonding time was family time with _him_, only _he _never talked to Chris, not even once. Chris didn't even know why he'd expected anything different. He caught his aunt Phoebe's pitying gaze and shook his head, signalling that he was fine. Why wouldn't he be? He should have been used to this by now.

He just couldn't figure out why _he _loved Wyatt so much, and never seemed to care about him. Weren't they the same? Chris and his brother were both witchlighters, they both had powers, they were both _his _sons, so where exactly had he fallen short? What had he done that was so bad, he was non-existent to _him_? Why was it that no matter how hard he tried, he was never noticed by the one person he looked up to? He had a suspicion that it had to do with his older brother being the _"prophecised twice-blessed"_, whatever that meant, but was it really that big of a deal? Or was it that Wy looked more like _him_, while he looked more like his mother? He'd once asked his mother about it, _"why doesn't _he _love me?'_ But he never got an answer, only a quick _'of course _he _loves you, Peanut, now run along and play with your brother'. _

Lies. They were all lies.

As usual, _he _would orb out before the celebration for work, and he would celebrate his own birthday surrounded by countless family members, but still feeling alone, unwanted, abandoned. Every year he would blow out the candles wishing upon all that he believed in for just a few minutes of family time with _him_, wishing that he could feel loved by _him_, for once. Every year he would cut the cake with his mother's guidance, believing that '_next time, things would be different. Next year, on his birthday, _he _would be standing there among the crowd, _his _cold blue eyes shining with pride.'_ Next year, he would be able to know what it felt like to have a father.

At night was the opening of more birthday presents and playing with his cousins until they had to leave, although he didn't see the point in getting every present he'd ever wanted when he only ever wanted _him._ Every year he would crawl into the cold bed defeated and without hope. Every year he would spend his birthday feeling nothing but loneliness. Every year, he prayed to the God his mother believed in that he would finally experience the happiness that was promised in _Happy Birthday_. Year after year his hopes were brutally shattered into a million pieces, waiting for him to cut himself trying to piece them back together.

But not this year. This year, he'd given up. This year, the pieces would stay on the ground where they belonged.

Ten-year-old Christopher Perry Halliwell did not have a father.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

**I have received questions about this being uploaded once a year, and I thought maybe I should explain my reasoning. I write chapters in accordance to our current timeline(As Chris was born in 2004, this year he would be 11 years old) so we can follow his journey up till the point Wyatt turns and even after that. I don't know if it makes sense but I kind of want to see where we are in the future when Wyatt turns. Also thank you so much for the reviews!**

**This chapter was written in a similar format to the last because I wanted to show the contrast. Future chapters should be a little more different.**

**Sorry for the short chapter! This was a little rushed.**

_November 16, 2015_

Chris woke up this year feeling a lot lighter than usual. He went through his morning routine feeling giddy with happiness and almost tripped on his feet as he descended the stairs to the kitchen.

This time, however, it was eerily silent.

His eyes locked onto the handmade birthday card on the table in front of the freshly prepared breakfast. There was a card every year, but he'd always keep it without even a glance, too absorbed in his own self-pity.

_'Hey peanut, Happy Birthday! As usual, breakfast is on the table. I know how much you love peanut butter cookies, so I made an extra batch today-'_

The neat, careful writing was interrupted by a pink ink written in scrawls he could only identify to be his aunt Phoebe's.

_'We helped too! They're not all for you, Chris! Save some for me!'_

At this point, he guessed the note was snatched back as his mother's writing continued uninterrupted.

_'Well, that's it! Oh, and turn around, won't you?'_

He turned around.

"Surprise!"

The fact that he jumped and screamed like the man he was would be a secret he would take to his grave.

He was surrounded by his family in an instant, some squeezing out behind the fridge- he decided it was better not to ask- his cousin Penny crawled out from under the table and bumped into his legs. He looked back down at the note.

Written in hurried writing was a_ 'Sorry we couldn't make it for breakfast, we'll be back as soon as possible. I love you.'_ With a heart drawn in pink ink.

He felt a small smile creep onto his face. The Power of Three was constantly busy, but never failed to make their love for him expressed clearly. He tucked the note into his pocket as he went to greet his family. The note will be put into his treasured collection at night.

When his mother and aunts arrived after breakfast, the exhaustion in their eyes betraying their energetic facade, Chris didn't even let Piper apologise. He gave her a hug and a grin and a thank you for the present hidden behind her back. That made her let out a laugh that reached her eyes. Phoebe, sensing his happiness, winked at him in approval. His smile only widened as Aunt Paige gave him all the presents he'd asked her for, ignoring Piper's comment about spoiling her little peanut.

In the evening, when _he_ came home for a visit- only out of obligation, as Chris now came to accept- the boy only sent him a small nod as Leo went over to greet the rest of the family. He busied himself with his new toys during family time, where Leo would talk to anyone but him, but this year it didn't bother him. He could have just as much fun without a constant father figure. He knew even Wy didn't get to see Leo for a few times a week, and in a way, he was glad. Leo may not have been a good father to him, but he was the perfect father figure for Wyatt.

There was no more resentment towards the Elder, only understanding. Wyatt had explained to him what it meant to be Twice-blessed, to have a reputation controlled by a prophecy, it was pressuring, and Leo was there for him whenever he needed it.

Chris? Chris could handle himself.

He bid Leo farewell as the Elder orbed away for work, and celebrated his birthday with the rest of his family- the family that really mattered. When he blew out the candles on his cake, he sent out not a wish, but an expression of gratitude, gratitude for his family.

That night, he went to sleep exhausted but with a tired smile on his face. He didn't know if it was just him, but it felt as if so much had changed since he'd decided to let go.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry this is so short! I've been really busy and pretty much forgot about this until a friend reminded me. Enjoy!**

Demon attack, _again_.

Chris would very much like for demons to stay away from the family for at least_ one _day a year, but he was old enough to understand that demon attacks weren't something anyone could control. Apart from the demons themselves, of course, but since when did they care about picking dates?

But even if he understood, it didn't mean he had to _like_ it.

They had been in the middle of cutting his birthday cake, he had been halfway through his quiet wish for himself to get stronger. Now that everything was ruined – pieces of cake on the floor, birthday candles strewn about the hall, his birthday wish up in smoke, he wondered if he should've just wished for a quiet, perfect birthday.

It wasn't a normal demon attack, either. It was an attack by three high-level demons, synchronised and planned. They had been here for his brother, he assumed, only the weird thing was that they all wanted Wyatt alive. Sometimes Chris would be envious of Wyatt's power, of the fame that came with being prophesied, of the love that came from a blessed father, but then he remembers that it made his brother a walking target, and he's glad for a low profile.

Screams echoed around the walls of the manor – _Chris, Henry, duck! Piper, now! Leo, get your ass down here!_ – as they all fought for their lives, as they did for every single day since he could remember, long before he was born. The Charmed sisters fought fiercely, while their husbands were tasked with keeping the kids safe.

In the corner of his eye from where he had ducked under the couch with Uncle Henry, he saw the flash of an athame too late as it plunged into his mother's chest. He could barely hear Uncle Henry's late warning, barely hear a thing above his own screams, both internal and external.

The last of the demons was vanquished and everyone crowded around his mother, Aunt Paige on her knees, her palms pressed to her sister's wound, willing for the healing glow to appear. It was then, with everyone waiting with bated breath that Leo orbed in with the familiar tinkling, talking about a matter he couldn't leave unattended, his voice thunderous in the tense silence until he noticed his wife on the ground, and closed his mouth shut.

Chris didn't care though, he didn't care about the fact that he knew Leo only delayed coming down because he thought it was to wish Chris a Happy Birthday, he couldn't even take his eyes off his mother, face scrunched up in pain. He _hated_ seeing her in pain. Aunt Paige had been healing for a while now, and the wound was only half healed. The athame had been poisoned.

_No_, he pleaded, _no no no._ He couldn't have her dead, not now, not _ever_, especially not on his _birthday_. Mom _promised!_ She promised she would live forever, as long as he wanted her to, she swore she became immortal for 24 hours a year on his birthday! _There was no way she could die, was there?_

Then Aunt Paige's healing glow faded, and his mother was breathing easier, and Phoebe went to find a cure for the poison the athame was laced with.

His birthday had been great until now, playing with his cousins and brother in the morning, cooking with his mother, training with Wy, all the way to _right now._

Right now, with his birthday ruined, demon blood on the floor, and another near-death count on his mother's record. He hated being a witch sometimes.

Hours later, the vanishing spell was cast, and another freshly-baked cake was placed on the table, smiles on his family's faces as they all sang him his birthday song. Everything was back to normal at five to midnight - as normal as normal could be for the Halliwells, but it didn't change the fact that it had been ruined a few hours ago, the evidence merely discarded.

Still, he figured he was old enough to accept reality. He was twelve after all, he could make do with what he had, and right now he had a loving family, a new cake, and a second chance at making his wish. He could deal with this.

Closing his eyes, he wished for his family to stay safe, forever and ever.


End file.
